Collateral Damage
by jazzberryjuice
Summary: "Always begin with the end in mind." If she'd known about "the end"—three people dead, two in hiding, two missing— she never would have begun. Hyuuga Hinata had considered a thousand possible outcomes, all of them terrible, but this one took the cake. [pairings are a complicated mess]
1. Prologue

**A/N: It's funny how I have so much to say until I start typing up an author's note. I guess I'll have to rewrite this after I think of something meaningful. If I ever do. But in the meantime, sorry for the hiatus and/or fandom change, and please enjoy this story (aka the story that just would not leave me alone)! **

**Also, if you're reading this, I love you more than I love Shark Week. **

**And a shrink is a psychologist.**

"It was then that Hook bit him.  
Not the pain of this but its unfairness was what dazed Peter. It made him quite helpless. He could only stare, horrified. Every child is affected thus the first time he is treated unfairly. All he thinks he has a right to when he comes to you to be yours is fairness. After you have been unfair to him he will love you again, but he will never afterwards be quite the same boy. No one ever gets over the first unfairness; no one except Peter."  
― J.M. Barrie, _Peter Pan_

**.**

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Prologue

Since she had stepped foot into the office, the shrink—a pretty redhead with soft curls and gold hooped earrings— had not so much as looked at Hinata—only showed her into a plush red armchair before rapid-firing questions her way.

The standard shrink questions for new patients, of course. At this point, Hinata was familiar enough with the process that she could answer almost all of them without thinking. She entertained herself by alternately studying the shrink's glossy auburn hair and the winding patterns on the Oriental carpet while wondering why the lack of eye contact bothered her so much.

There was something—her voice, her demeanor, something— unsettling about this woman. Something Hinata couldn't quite place; had she met this woman before?

Her mind drew a maddening blank.

"… Health issues?" the shrink asked, her sparkly purple pen traveling across the clipboard along with the printed words.

"No."

"Trouble sleeping?"  
"I am usually unable to sleep at all."  
"Do you have insomnia?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever attempted suicide?"

"No."  
"Have you ever contemplated suicide?"

A deep breath. "I believe all of us have, at some point in our lives."

The shrink ignored her, tucking a stray red strand behind her ear. Even that action Hinata vaguely recognized. She bit her lower lip in frustration as the shrink continued the interrogation. "Does anyone in your family have a history of mood disorders? Has any relative of yours exhibited emotional instability?"

"No." Her family, as far as she knew, did not _do _emotions.

Maybe her response had been too hasty. The woman's head snapped up and wide viridian eyes locked against Hinata's for a split second. There was a flash, a flash of _something. _Shock? Recognition? Fear? It passed by too quickly, even for Hinata's sharp eyes, eyes that people claimed could catch everything, read anyone. The redhead immediately severed the inadvertent connection, tearing her gaze away and refocusing on the clipboard still clenched in her now tense fingers.

Hinata had seen those eyes before. But the color—the _color_ was wrong!

_Viridian_. They had not been green the last time she'd seen them.

"On a scale of one to ten, with ten being perfect, can you rank your family life based on—"  
"No," she interrupted, the word accidentally tumbling out of her throat.

"… Excuse me?"  
Hinata sighed and elaborated on her accidental slip. "No, I know where this is going. These questions are to pinpoint a probable cause of my condition, but you are wasting your time."

"Oh?" The shrink did not look up this time. "We're almost done."

Hinata had been through the procedure enough times to know that they were _not _almost done. There were at least thirty more questions.

Hinata let out a puff of air. "I was not bullied at school. I was never sexually harassed or abused as a child or as an adult. It might interest you to know that I have no close friends and no ties to my family, but _none_ of that is _pertinent to my situation right now_." Her voice had begun to rise in pitch and she quickly cut herself off.

The shrink was jotting something down. _Indications of emotional instability, _Hinata guessed, letting her back fall against the armchair, abandoning her perfect posture. _Denial. Lack of self-control. Touchy._

A year ago, Hinata never would have allowed such break in composure. A year ago, she had had perfect self-control, unshakeable poise. Also a year ago, she might have cared. All her life she had been raised to bereserved and respectful and proper, but if there was one thing she had learned from this debacle, it was that meekness got you _nowhere._

Still, she had paid $120 for the session and she would be damned if she did not get her hour's worth. Even if she harbored doubts toward its effectiveness in "healing" her. (This was, after all, her sixth shrink. She had no idea why she kept trying, either.)

She took a deep breath, allowing the chilly office air to fill her lungs, slowing her heartbeat. "My apologies," she said emphatically. "What I mean to say is that although certain… aspects… of my personal life may be red flags for childhood trauma and the like, I assure you that my current condition has been triggered by recent events." She paused. "I have a theory about what my problem is."

The shrink's mouth tensed into a thin line of disapproval, yet another familiar action that she could not place. "Do tell, miss."

_Do tell, miss._

The tone was what clicked the last piece into place for Hinata's recognition. It was that unique balance of patience and patronization, achievable by only one person in the world.

"Severe disillusionment." At the shrink's raised eyebrows, Hinata shrugged her shoulders and gave a ghost of a smile. "A lot's happened in Konoha since your elopement, Ino."

**A/N: Do you like where this is going? Bad idea? Please leave a review! I would greatly appreciate ANY feedback. **

**~jazzberryjuice**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Chapter 1, in which Naruto is incredibly callous, but what's new? Lots of exposition and an ending that might or might not be tragic. Bear with me, please, and do refrain from killing me.**

**Also, fair warning: updates will be sporadic at best.**

TEN YEARS EARLIER

Hinata knew who it was before she'd even had a chance to knock. "Come in," she called softly, her back still facing the door.

A small click sounded behind her, and she pictured her cousin walking into the room. _Glided, _rather—Neji never just walked_. _He possessed a sort of fluid grace, one that silently commanded your attention.

She waited for him to explain his visit, but her cousin seemed to be, for the moment, satisfied with simply standing at the door and watching her pack.

Any other person's gaze on her back and she would have felt uncomfortable. But this was Neji.

Hinata reached over, snagged the end of a mint-green robe. The garment tumbled out of its careful folding and she meticulously smoothed it out. Pressed free of wrinkles, the robe was positioned precisely into the left side of her daisy-patterned suitcase.

God, she _hated _daisies.

Daisies were simple and beautiful and sweet, and she hated them.

Hinata recalled last-last-last Valentine's Day, when Ino had delivered flowers for her friends. _The symbol of innocence and purity,_ Ino had cooed, _and loyalty to love_. A conspiratorial wink. _Oh, doesn't it suit her perfectly?_

The others, Sakura and Tenten, had nodded faithfully.

She'd stammered out her thanks—this had obviously occurred before the stutter had been beaten out of her—and tried to mask the hurt. Because while Ino had probably meant the comparison as a compliment, that did not change the fact that Sakura had gotten roses, Tenten snapdragons, and Hinata _weeds._

They were the only flowers that grew in her garden, too. Anything else Hinata had tried to cultivate, poppies or marigold or sunflowers, had all been quickly overrun by a loathsome swarm of a-dime-a-dozen daisies. Some twisted, sick game of Fate's.

Fate. Hinata suddenly remembered her cousin was still inside her room and turned around, embarrassed at having ignored him for so long.

He was watching her with those pale eyes that mirrored her own. Except while her cousin had mastered the art of concealing emotions, Hinata had always, to her knowledge, been much easier to read.

That would explain how everyone knew about her and… _Naruto_, she emphasized in her mind, refusing to shy away from his name (that only made it worse). That would explain how everyone knew, except maybe Naruto himself.

Neji cleared his throat, and Hinata jumped, having almost forgotten her cousin's presence for the second time that day. She flushed, fighting the urge to grab another article of clothing and hide behind it to escape eye contact.

"You don't have to do this," her cousin said suddenly.

Oh, but she did. "Do what?" Hinata asked innocently.

Neji didn't deign that with a reply, only waited patiently for the answer that would satisfy him.

Some things would never change. Hinata smiled in spite of herself, a quick slant of her lips that meant nothing, really. "Neji, please. Of courseI—you _know _I do." She reached back for the light jacket hanging from the bedpost.

"You are running away," he stated, like it was a fact.

"I am not," Hinata said. She was.

Not in the literal sense. She was not preparing for a life on the run. She had not been disinherited. (Although, really, she might as well have been.)

It was more a "running away from her problems" sort of situation. And the recent Suna disaster—as terrible as it sounded—had, with optimal timing, presented itself as the perfect escape.

Suna, the country southeast of her Konoha, had been walloped by an epidemic of monstrous proportions over the past week. Word was that it had something to do with a contaminated water source, but as the numbers infected continued to rise, Suna authorities had called for Konoha's aid in case it turned out to be some new strain of an old virus.

So they were dispatching a couple medic teams, which would head off to Suna tomorrow. Hinata, as a hospital intern, was allowed to accompany.

She had jumped at the opportunity for paid leave of undetermined length.

After all, what would she be leaving behind? Her father had seemed all right with the idea. If he hadn't been happy about it, he, at the very least, was indifferent. Indifferent, just like he had been about her practicing medicine on the side instead of focusing solely on law. Never mind that no Hyuuga had _ever _chosen to do something other than the family business. Of course, none of her family had honestly expected her to succeed Hiashi as CEO of the Hyuuga law firm.

She was a terrible lawyer—even Hanabi, her younger sister, showed more promise—and, at best, a mediocre doctor. To be fair, though, she had only recently tried her hand at medicine. Maybe it would improve with time.

Ownership of Hyuuga &amp; Sons was traditionally passed down the main family line, from father to, obviously, son. Hereditary succession was, in her opinion, not an amazing way to find leaders, but training the heir for this position literally from birth had, admittedly, worked so far.

… Until Hinata.

"Are you worried?" she asked. "I am not, so why should you be?"

"You are not worried?"

"No."

"Does that explain why you have been obsessively folding and unfolding that robe for the past half hour?" he countered sarcastically.

She looked down. "Have I," she muttered. Of course she had.

Neji nodded stoically. "It's time for lunch," he said, turning and slipping out of her room.

Hinata started. Lunch? She had been packing in her room since five o'clock in the morning—had she really just daydreamed away seven hours?

She hurried after Neji, not even bothering to close the door behind her.

Trailing behind her cousin but maintaining a comfortable distance, Hinata's eyes fixated on his back as they progressed down the winding corridor. It occurred to her that this had been the defining theme of her life: she was always following in Neji's footsteps, but he was forever confined to her shadow.

Because Neji, for all his natural talent, was not in the line of inheritance for the business. In face of a stubborn, provincial council of elders who demanded that tradition be upheld, he didn't even stand a chance. But even the council recognized his skills as invaluable, so they threatened to disown, blacklist, and pull out all the stops to destroy Neji if he even thought about leaving.

Neji slowed down as he neared the staircase, allowing Hinata to catch up.

The council had once suggested Hinata simply be a figurehead and allow Neji to run the company behind the scenes. Too bad her chronic stutter and total lack of self-confidence rendered her incapable of even that.

Perhaps with her out of the picture, as she liked to imagine, the law firm would be bequeathed to Neji, who actually deserved the honor. She would probably be disinherited, but maybe that couldn't be helped…

A small figure appeared at the foot of the velvet stairs, and both she and Neji stiffened. Hanabi.

Hinata's younger sister, and the youngest of the main branch progeny, had not seen them yet. A long strand of dark hair bounced against Hanabi's nose as she quickly scaled the steps, her eyes trained downward.

Once they were a flight apart, Hinata parted her lips. "Good afternoon, Hanabi."

Hanabi's head snapped up. "Same to you."

Her sister's failure to address her by name did not, by any means, escape Hinata, but it was Neji who spoke up first. "Hanabi," he censured immediately. "Manners."

Hanabi did not even attempt to disguise the contempt in her gaze, which did not stray from Hinata's. "Yes, cousin," she muttered as they crossed paths.

Schooling her features into the Hyuuga-patented display of polite indifference, Hinata at once remembered that this was not the Hanabi she once knew, the one who liked to sing to the courtyard flowers and design intricate treasure maps through the forest.

She recalled a previously drawn conclusion: that the business could never go to Neji. It would go to Hanabi, the next in line. Hanabi, who bore the brunt of her father's wrath after her older sister had been deemed a lost cause. Sweet Hanabi, who was now as ruthless and coldly calculating as Hiashi.

If Hinata had one fault—and she, in fact, had very many—it would be that she could never reconcile her loved ones with the people they inevitably changed into. She could never, would never, be able to reconcile her Hanabi with this Hanabi.

_Although it must hurt_, Hinata thought vaguely, steadying herself against the elaborate cream-colored banister, _to have a failure for a sister._

They reached the main level of the compound in comfortable silence. Neji made a sharp right turn and hastened to the doors.

It was the main entrance to the Hyuuga compound, so of course it had to make a statement. Even from the inside. Its looming double doors stood intimidatingly, polished and immaculate. A small stained glass window streamed coral and turquoise beams of light into spiraling patterns that waltzed against white tile.

Hinata slipped on a pair of plain black flats as her cousin fiddled with the gate controls. There was no telling sound that the main gate had opened—Hyuugas were far too good for _creaking_ noises—but she trusted it would be.

Neji pushed open the double doors, and they walked into the bright afternoon.

There was a girl waiting for them outside the—now opened—gate, waiting as she usually was every weekday. Though she donned her signature hairstyle, twin buns atop her hair, and recognizable maroon sweatpants, Hinata thought she could have recognized the girl just as easily by aura alone.

Tenten, Neji's closest friend, gave the two Hyuugas a cheery wave as they approached.

She really was quite pretty, Hinata thought, and not for the first time. Although by no means a bombshell like Ino, she had sparkling hazel eyes and a contagious smile. Tenten exuded a sort of inimitable charm that drew people to her and the fluid grace characteristic of Neji. Hinata, personally, thought Tenten's bright personality complemented her cousin's subdued nature rather well.

"Hinata, Neji!" She exclaimed when they were within earshot. "How've you been?"

"In the several hours since we have last seen you, relatively the same, I would suppose," was Neji's answer, although accompanied with a small smirk.

Tenten did not miss it. "As is your pitiful sense of humor, _I would suppose_," she countered. "How about you, Hinata?"

"Nothing much," she admitted. "How are you?"

"Oh, awful. We've gotten a flood of orders," Tenten smiled. "Makes you wonder what people are up to." Tenten managed the Konoha forge with her parents. The demand for the handcrafted weapons for which they were famous was far from high, but her family had a stellar reputation in the business, and the return was enough to live comfortably off of.

Hinata returned a sympathetic smile. "So you have been busy."

"Very. Say," Tenten dug in her jacket pocket, pulling out a slip of paper. "I've got a voucher for the new barbeque place, the one across the street from my house. Might be a good change from all the ramen we've been eating."

Hinata hesitated. "But what about—"

"Naruto?"

Determined not to succumb to the lightheadedness that accompanied every utterance of his name, Hinata gave a controlled nod. "Yes. Is," she paused, "he all right with that?"

Tenten pouted. "Aw, Hinata, but the four of us've had lunch at Ichiraku's for weeks, just for him! Shouldn't it be our turn to choose the restaurant?"

"I believe, at this point, I have ordered every item on the menu at least twice," Neji interjected unhelpfully.

Hinata shrugged. "I like ramen."

"I'm sure _that's _it," Tenten stage-whispered to Neji. "Fine, Hinata, we'll consider his opinion. Let's go."

The gates slid closed behind her, and Hinata broke out into a sunny smile, one that she would probably find too wide to be comely, if she had cared.

…

As it turned out, Naruto _did _have a problem with a restaurant change.

"But, _guys_," he whined, dramatically pulling at his mess of golden hair. "What happened to quality time with old friends?"

"Better food does not negate 'quality time'," Neji pointed out.

Naruto grinned, the kind the made her stomach do flips. "But you can have fancy dinners whenever you want in your family mansion. Isn't that why you come out for lunch?"

That _was _why Neji and she had come to Ichiraku's in the first place. They always felt a bit out of place there in their rather formal everyday attire, but the raucousness of the streets was a welcome break from the tense silence of the compound. For someone commonly labeled as the village idiot, Naruto could be very perceptive when he wanted to be.

"What about a peasant like me?" Tenten asked, crossing her arms and smiling. "Don't I deserve to eat fancy once in a while?"

Hinata giggled. "You will when you come live with us."

Neji choked at the implication, and Tenten mock-glared at her. "Whose side are you on, Hina? Stop changing the subject."

"Mine," Naruto sang, draping an arm around Hinata's shoulders. "I'm irresistible."

Hinata bit the inside of her cheek, willing away the heat traitorously rising to her cheeks.

Tenten smirked knowingly at her. "Okay, Mr. Irresistible, you and Hinata have fun with the same old stuff. Neji and I are going to be adventurous." She linked her arm with Neji and whisked him away, but not before calling over her shoulder: "Be safe!"

This time Hinata could not hide the blush. "Wait! Tenten!" she squeaked.

"Hey, looks like you're alone with me," Naruto smirked devilishly.

For the first time in years, Hinata felt like she was about to faint.

…

"The usual!" Naruto called out to Teuchi, the owner of the ramen stand.

"I will have miso ramen, thank you," Hinata followed politely.

Teuchi disappeared behind the counter and the two sat in uncomfortable silence.

Not surprisingly, Naruto was the one who broke it. "Hey, Hinata," he started, uncharacteristically quiet. "You don't, um, not like me, right?"

She stared incredulously.

"Because," he hurried, "I used to think so because you never talked to me but then we talked over the weeks and I thought you were really cool and that we were friends but right now you're not talking to me and it kind of feels like before and I was wondering," he stopped to take a deep, gasping breath, "did I do something wrong? Because I probably didn't mean—"

His bright blue eyes peered sadly down at her and she felt a twinge in her gut. He thought she was _ignoring _him? "N-no," she interrupted him firmly before he could ramble on. "I… I just have a lot on my mind."

"More business pressure?" He asked sympathetically.

"You could say that," she sighed. While neither she nor Neji had ever introduced the touchy topic, it had popped up uninvited more than a few times in earlier lunch conversations.

"Do you even want the business?"

"I," she sighed. "The worst thing is, I don't know."

"You should be able to do what you want," Naruto said indignantly. "Things that are cooler than boring _law_, anyway."

"I might be disinherited."

He narrowed his eyes. "Hiashi?"

She said nothing.

"He doesn't treat you like he should, and you _know _that. Threatening you? Really? You should tell him off!"

Hinata pictured herself "telling her father off" and grinned slightly.

Naruto beamed, probably thinking she was taking his advice seriously. "That's the spirit! Do you want me to come with you?"

And just like that, her little smile dropped. "Oh, um, I don't think that would be a good idea." Naruto's face fell, and she hurriedly corrected herself: "Nothing against you"—lie—"it is just that…" she trailed off.

"Well, okay," he nodded. "When you're ready, then."

And the place in her heart that Naruto occupied expanded infinitesimally.

…

She watched Naruto as he recounted some incident that had occurred a couple of days ago, talking a mile a minute. Hinata tried as best as she could to string together recognizable phrases and follow his story.

But while it seemed to be a wild—and probably exaggerated—tale, Hinata was far more interested in watching _him._

He was like… a pot of soup neglected for too long on the stove; having no one else who would patiently listen to him talk, Naruto was practically bubbling over in excitement. His hands flew around animatedly in the background as Hinata not-so-surreptitiously admired his gleaming eyes.

The dim light in the ramen stand lent a golden sheen to the nest of spiky blond hair and tanned skin. He was, Hinata realized, literally glowing. Her heart stuttered.

How anyone could find such warm excitement annoying was utterly beyond her. There was no one else quite like bright, happy Naruto in the world, yet she could not think of a single person who appreciated him for what he offered.

"—oops, was I talking too fast?" He'd noticed, probably, her dazed expression.

"Only a bit," she smiled at him, "but it could be just me."

He slowed down. "Okay, so then he decides to actually _dress up _as a _woman_ and try to sneak in that way!"

She could only assume he was talking about Jiraiya. Jiraiya, Kohona's resident pervert of fifty-something years, was hailed as "the unassuming genius of the business world." A rather unwieldy title, but Jiraiya had readily taken to it, plastering the epithet in shameless self-promotion wherever and whenever he had the opportunity.

Jiraiya had taken Naruto under his wing amidst warnings that Naruto would only bring failure, and famously stating that "the kid had potential none of you pretentious assholes can dream of." Everyone thought Jiraiya had gone senile, up until Naruto's stocks had skyrocketed seventy percent and singlehandedly won the company two million dollars. He really had an instinct for business.

"He crossdressed to enter the women's side of the hot springs?" Hinata asked incredulously. "But then what happened when he… um, took off his…"

"He tried the other section this time. You know, the part where you wear a bathing suit."

Hinata gaped. "But… Still, no one saw through that?"

He shook his head gleefully. "That's the best part. See, he gets caught for spying so regularly that they recognized him anyway and kicked him out. Literally kicked him out; he's got a bruise in unmentionable regions." He then went on to mention, quite graphically, exactly _where _those "unmentionable" regions were.

She bit her lip to hide her grin. The elders would have a conniption fit if they ever got wind of how she was exposing herself to such coarse, debased conversation.

Giddy from imagining their reactions, Hinata listened on with an almost smug satisfaction.

"He says he won't teach me if he doesn't get enough research material for his new book," Naruto exclaimed in outrage.

"… Oh."

"You know what they are, right?"

How could she not?

"They're _porn_, Hinata," Naruto whispered so loudly some heads a couple feet away actually turned in their direction.

She wanted to melt into the ground.

"That is… unfortunate," she coughed.

"Isn't it?! So now he wants _me _to spy for him," Naruto continued incredulously. "Like they wouldn't recognize _me_!"

"For what it is worth," Hinata commented with as straight a face as she could manage, "I imagine you would make a much more convincing girl."

Naruto's lips formed a comical 'o'. "Hina," he whined dramatically, a hand clutching at his heart. "How could you?"

"Sorry," she chuckled into her hand. Hinata closed her eyes, feeling a rush of euphoria course through her veins. _She _was teasing Naruto! It had come so naturally, too… Perhaps she was not as hopeless a case as she had imagined.

He leaned back, stretching, and she sipped at her—now cold—soup.

"Hey, Hina."

She inclined her head.

"Have I ever told you that you're a really great friend?"

Hinata felt her face burst into flames. "I suppose you are now," she said carefully, trying not to explode from pure, unadulterated _joy._

"Really," he laughed. "You're the only person who can be bothered to listen to me," he said, the words belying his lighthearted tone. "Except maybe Konohamaru, and everyone knows that he's just as obnoxious as I am. Where have you been my whole life?"

_Here, _she wanted to say. "I… am shy," she said instead.

"Well, you've definitely gotten a lot better with that," he said encouragingly.

Teuchi walked over. "How's the meal?"

A moan. "_Heaven_."

"Very good, sir."

The Ichiraku owner grinned. "On your tab, Naruto?"

"You know it!"

Forgetting every single etiquette lesson she had ever sat through, Hinata automatically reached for her wallet. Naruto lightly batted her arm away. "Come on, Hina, you come to eat ramen with me every day for years. This is kinda the least I can do."

It had actually been more weeks instead of years, but who was she to correct him?

"I like ramen," she protested.

Naruto just smiled.

And then, in a rush, she blurted: "Mgonsuna."

"What?"

Hinata flushed. "I'm going to Suna."

Naruto nodded, frowning. "I know. I'll miss our lunches. But you'll be back, right?" Whatever reaction she had anticipated, it had not been this.

"W-wait," she stammered, and her eyes widened. The stutter couldn't be back, not after all she had… She couldn't be relapsing.

His eyes, a boundless expanse of ocean, bore into hers. "Huh? What did I say?"

Her eyebrows furrowing in confusion, she watched him attempt to rack his brain. "Y-you knew?"

"What?"

"That I was going to Suna," Hinata pressed. "You knew?" Was she making too big a deal out of this? Maybe the whole village knew.

He smiled. "Yeah! It's awesome that they chose you. Sorry I didn't congratulate you earlier; I just forgot."

"Thank you, but I volunteered, actually."

Naruto shrugged good-naturedly. "I'm sure you would've been chosen anyway. You'll do great, believe it!"

Trying to ignore the warmth rising in her stomach, she still wondered how he had known. "Who told you, though?" She had thought it was a matter privy to the hospital staff.

"Sakura, before she left."

One word—one name, and her blithe mood dissipated.

_Sakura._

Sakura Haruno had left Konoha three weeks ago for the same mission Hinata was embarking on the next day. Only, while Hinata was going as an intern volunteer, Sakura was going as a full-fledged doctor. Suna had requested her, even. Specifically. By name.

Sakura was also Naruto's longtime crush throughout the entirety of grade school, whom he might or might not have gotten over. She was still hopelessly in love with Sasuke, whom Hinata remembered as strangely broody but strikingly handsome before he'd dropped out of their high school. Sakura's pining was painfully obvious to everyone in the village, but then Naruto had never been one to give up.

It was what she loved about him.

Hinata's stomach twisted. "Sakura," she repeated dumbly.

She realized now that it was only after the girl had left had Naruto even given Hinata the time of day. And even in Sakura's absence, even when Hinata had listened to all the things, all the "stupid stories" and "gross exploits" Sakura had not wanted to hear from Naruto, every other word he breathed was Sakura, Sakura, Sakura.

Always.

She supposed she should be used to it, the persistent ache of never being able to measure up, but this time around, the reminder hurt more than it should have.

"Yeah," Naruto said, his expression inscrutable. He cleared his throat. "Listen, Hina…"

She nodded, grateful for the subject change. Her throat was closing up, and she hated herself for being so temperamental.

"… Can you do me a favor?"

"Yes," she responded immediately.

Naruto grinned at her teasingly. "I haven't even told you what it is! What if it was to lend me a five hundred dollars?"

Hinata raised an eyebrow before realizing the arrogance of her action.

He, of course, thought nothing of it. "Oh, that's right, your family's stacked." He made a face. "What if it was to lend me five hundred million dollars?"

"I trust you," she said simply. Really, it wasn't like she could refuse him anything.

Naruto shot her a heartbreaking grin. "I wrote someone a letter." He reached into his worn leather satchel. "It would mean so much to me if you could help me deliver it," he continued, pulling out a thin, slightly wrinkled envelope.

_SAKURA HARUNO_, it said.

He might as well have just punched her.

Hinata just stared, unable to comprehend how he could be asking her to do this, how he could not understand what it would cost her.

Naruto mistook her silence for something else. "Oh, right," he muttered to himself, pulling something else out and extending it to her in his palm.

His frog wallet, bulging at the seams with, presumably, loose change. She had once thought the design so endearing and simultaneously ridiculous for a grown man to still be carrying around. But now, the wide, playful eyes seemed to be mocking her, laughing at her foolishness.

And she had been so, so foolish.

Hinata would have laughed if it hadn't hurt so much.

"I don't have much with me right now," he was saying, "but of course I'll have more to give you after you come back! I'll even get you a little something," he winked. Then, worriedly: "will that be enough for your troubles?"

He waited for her response, still holding out the frog wallet hopefully.

She struggled to breathe.

After eons, Hinata finally found it within herself to react. She reached out and gently closed his fist over the wallet. The radiating warmth of his skin lingered faintly in her cool fingertips. "Naruto," she said quietly, turning away so he could not see stinging eyes and appalling weakness. "I do not want your money."

She took the letter and slid off the barstool.

…

She sat, still, on the carpet, her legs folded under herself, frail and lifeless. The fireplace, which she was far too close to, shot sparks dangerously close to her form.

Hinata doubted that she would be able to feel the burn.

The print on the envelope was vastly different from Naruto's usual chicken scratch. Each letter of Sakura Haruno's name was painstakingly printed in wobbly black lettering, positioned with care.

Her fingers trembled at the fold. It would be so easy, so stupidly easy to just open the envelope and read its contents. It would be brutal, it would crush her, but she ached to _know._ What had he written to Sakura? Another love letter?

Hinata could not even begin to count how many love letters she had watched him send to Sakura, only to have them thrown back at his feet.

Something, something utterly foreign, seethed inside her. _Sakura._

Why Sakura? What had Sakura ever done for him, besides tease and belittle and torture him? She never listened to Naruto, only had him listen to her. Why did he still…?

Another part of her, the rational part, reminded her that she was not being fair, that Sakura had many admirable qualities, that she was beautiful and strong, that you could not judge a character by how she had behaved as a spoiled twelve-year-old girl. That Sakura had had a longer history with Nar—

Lost in a fiery angst, Hinata's hand involuntarily twitched.

(Whether the action had been conscious or not, that was how she remembered it.)

Wide-eyed, she watched dumbly as the letter made its agonizingly slow descent into the fireplace. The flames parted as if to taunt her with an unobstructed view of the letter among crackling embers.

The envelope, for a moment, seemed impervious to the burning, before, all at once, its corners curled inward and it shriveled black.

**A/N: Feel free to correct any mistakes/discrepancies you may—and probably will—find in this chapter. And feel free to suggest pairings. And feel free to review. **

**Reviews, to me, are like surprise snow days when you haven't finished your homework. **

**I worked pretty hard on this chapter, and they'll definitely help me crank out the next one. I'd love to break 100 for this story eventually!**


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